#call that dual posting...dual destinies...sigh...

[nina-psipsina]

Sketch from my Yaoi and YouTube enrichment time

[psalloacappella]

tempo rubato

Day 7 Prompt: free prompt // “From now on . . .”

@sasusakublankperiodweek

Ao3 | FFN | ↓

It is a divine and breathtaking thing, to be untethered from their earthly expectations.

The rhythm of the world is a universal hum, an unbroken orbit consisting only of two.

(we write a story)

Hewn halves of the same whole, shadow and light.

They tell themselves to keep it simple, take it slow. This, whatever this is.

The dynamic shift between them is not sudden nor gradual, but something permanent, piquant, and passionate.

Arcs of exploration, personal and entwined: They roam the edges of the world they know and the enclaves they don’t, hoping that their bonding will reveal the hidden map — time reigning at the helm, the pilgrim cartographer. 

But they’ve never been blithe or unfocused, not in their goals or in the shaping of their destinies. Certainly, nothing between them has ever been anything other than a dramatic affair, enduring, and a love that every other eye can see.

“How many days has it been?” she asks him across an inn table, watching him in the dim light. 

Sasuke knows damn well she’s aware of the hours and seconds that have elapsed together; she’s far too precise for sly questions of time. Does it matter?

He pauses before answering, already so taken with the way she levels her gaze at him, unadorned, and knows bringing her along will be the ultimate undoing of his penance journey, the taking apart of his hard heart. Sunrise cleaving through his endless dusk.

“Months, now.” Gathering up the last shreds of meat from his bowl, he places it in hers and meets her eyes in the manner of setting dry kindling alight. 

And so it works, this restrained and sentimental pace, for a while.

.

(we speed up)

Whispers in firelight will be their foundation, the tales that will shape their future. They speak of mundanities (flowers), practicalities (weather) and dreams, some past, lost, and others transforming into hesitant, potential plans. They speak of scars, this one that one, from the one they called Sasori she breathes, his fingertips tracing a swift cleaving crescent, from him, he mutters, and he knows she’ll know which man simply by the smolder in his sloe and violet eyes.

Some damage gossamer, passing marks on the skin, and others rugged as mountain ranges, raised in affront. Shapes distorting and flickering in the flames. A reminder of the world they hold up, the home they must decide to recommit to, if they can.

They travel and retrace their own history, craving and dreading the point at which they meet the end if only to know the epilogue. 

But this love is unbridled, moves at breakneck speeds — years piled up with unsaid things, so it’s easy to melt, crumble, learn and map every single vulnerable inch of one another. Hearts, minds, skin. Whispering one another’s names in constant refrain.

It is a divine and breathtaking thing, to be untethered from their earthly expectations.

The rhythm of the world is a universal hum, an unbroken orbit consisting only of two.

.

(we slow down)

Swimming in a lazy river, circling as fish in palty ponds consisting only of their dual halves, they speak of coulds:  Could we settle somewhere new? Is the place that birthed us a sort of destiny? Is that home, or is this, you and I, enough of an identity? 

Could our future thrive in the same place of our trauma?

Could this system, somehow, become better? 

Balancing a brush between idle fingers, Sakura drips dry in the parched heat and nibbles the end of it in thought.

“Anything to add?” she asks. 

Sasuke swats at an insect, squinting in the high noon.

“For Kakashi?” Thinks a moment, then glances sidelong at her; at the way she holds things aloft so delicate in hands that break the earth. Heal men, and kill them on occasion. At the way she imbues such seriousness into her letters to their ex-sensei, frown rivets dashing across her forehead. At the fading water evaporating from her skin. “Ah, just to share it with the idiot.”

Lips drawn in moue, Sakura struggles not to laugh. “I can write separate letters; Kaka-sensei is busy now. Hokage things, you know?”

She watches him throw his arm against his eyes to shield them from a dazzling sun, and his quiet snicker contains multitudes, echos in a song. The expression just in that reminds her how little friction remains between them, that they’ve caught fire. 

“He can dictate to Naruto — you’ll burn out here if I let you write two,” he chides, noting the red dusting on her cheeks, suffused with glow. “I’m not quite sure how well he reads on his own anyway.”

Erupting into giggles, she shades her own eyes to stare at him with bewitching and stripped abandon. “Be nice. You know he’s next in line to lead, and no matter what he says, he’ll need you.”

Duty. It sits between them occasionally, considered and sometimes unwanted. 

“You as well.”

Before she’s laughed it off, brushed it away to avoid its grip, but he’s correct. They are fever-bound in fire to the village that will shape the future. A daunting prospect. 

“And I’ll need you too.”

Sakura’s so sure she’s misheard, but he’s closer now than a moment ago, sweeping into her orbit with his infuriating and silent speed, thumb resting gently on her blazing bottom lip.

Bringing the question into being, a fruitless thing he’d never deliberate but she never has qualms about speaking into being. 

“Do we have to go back?”

In answer he kisses her on a simmering, sunny riverbank in a way that would make their mothers blush, an apology, a wish, and this day becomes an axis even if they won’t know it for many cycles of the moon.

A pin is pressed into a shared soul map, becomes a burgeoning accompaniment, another rising phrase in their endless song.

From now on, they are in harmony, particularly with something much larger than themselves. 

.

.

Somehow it seems the village feels them coming, whispers paving the way.

Beginning with the far-flung ranging scouts and flying fast to the spry perimeter lookouts, on to the first inner circle defensive squads and, once the shinobi are identified, the hostile caution drops from their voices in a game of telephone to be replaced with a slightly manic curiosity. 

“Two,” one of them says, yanking a sweaty flak collar from his neck. 

“No,” the other says in a strident tone, waving his answer away. “There’s another with them. Three.”

Details drip in Ino’s ears, and she leaves her post in a whirlwind, a tornado of emotion whose  witnessed story springboards from house to training ground to alcove to inn. 

It’s fitting that the first encounter, or reunion, occurs in the middle of a main road beginning as ringing, if loving insults but dwindling to potshots from gritted teeth and smoothing into cooing whispers as the two women, these best friends, encircle one another with shaking arms and a bundle pressed between them; the accompanying men linger at awkward edges, Sasuke betraying so little with his usual impassive expression and Shikamaru, who was tripped up in Ino’s anger along the way, keeping his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh, how could you?” Ino sniffles, wiping away tears with the heel of her hand. “Can’t do anything by half-measures, no subtlety, you never could! No letter, no warning.” Here she glares at Sasuke for a moment, enough for him to cast his eyes away in at least a modest show of humility. 

The moments pile upon, become stranger and more surprising, as Ino presses her lips to the bundle in Sakura’s arms and Shikamaru sighs in not-unhappy resignation, ah, so it is, and extends his hand to an unusually startled Sasuke and for a fleeting sliver-second, the corners of his mouth aren’t quite so dour.

“Who’s next?” Ino asks, tenderly flicking away a lock of Sakura’s hair. “Though by now, the whole damn town knows.”

The men shake clumsily, wary, bereft of custom.

“I’m sure you had nothing to do with that. The honorary uncle, it's only fair.”

“We have to report regardless,” Sasuke supplies quietly. Bending over the bundle and his new wife (which, Ino will rant in retrospect, seems obvious now — his unusual tenderness, his glow, men don’t glow like that for just anyone, any reason!), he whispers, begins to lead her away. They walk with high heads and radiant faces.

Her jade eyes behold their new bundle, but his eyes stay, mostly, on her. 

.

By now the gossip’s reached his stuffy office, and though he’s never been one to put on airs or prepare for visitors, he does try to clear a free spot to be able to see over the mess of his desk, before an aide takes pity on him and handles the rest.

He will have to get a full, unadorned look at this.

She leads, of course she does — this is the love at twelve she forcibly took into her own hands, even when it pricked and bruised. Wrestled it until she won. The newlywed glow is obvious. As a shadow Sasuke sweeps in behind, but the tiny uplift of his lips is still evident.

True, then. Differences all around.

“The kids do things differently these days,” Kakashi jokes. “Have you at least considered getting married?”

“Have you?” Sasuke snarks.

Sakura shushes him gently, thumbing away some errant speck from their bundle’s chubby face. Eyes bright, they seem to dim the rest of the room as she raises them to Kakashi and asks, breathless, “Do you want to—?”

And despite his aide’s effort to clear his desk he gets up and comes around it, to them, closing the loop around a future he hopes is halcyon and new, shepherds of peacetime. 

He wonders if they’ve had their real homecoming yet, the true test — but no, he’d be able to tell. Not that the joy in Sakura’s face could possibly be more evident, and by the careful way Sasuke presses his mouth to her temple, nudges her with his nose (and there’s the glow, the one that paints great men often only because of exceptional women they love). Naruto, busy and climbing for his Hokage position but with his own recent arrival, his own legacy coming in the form of something tiny, blond, and confusing. 

The third point of their legendary triumvirate, no doubt unaware of what’s coming to his doorstep and in tow, the new member of his full life he’ll meet anew. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Sakura whispers, eyes shining.

A gloved hand on each head, as if they’re genin again:  He’s gentle with Sakura, ruffles Sasuke’s hair with a roguish twinkle if only to provoke his trademark scowl. 

Subdued, but their sensei’s happiness sings through in the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. 

.

Perhaps they don’t expect Naruto to be the one they see as the door swings open; after all the last letter he sent in his untidy scrawl is still in Sasuke’s cloak pocket, unread in the wake of their universe shifting to this perennial birth that’s brought them across the world and then to their best friend’s doorstep, clutching this thing that did not exist and now does, borne of them and their love; he stands there, blond hair in chaos and a strange smattering of dirt on his cheek and a rag over his shoulder covered in fluids that his friends now know will be constant, streaming, the aftermath of infants; Hinata behind him, carrying her own bundle, with the same look of frenzied-excited exhaustion but now her mouth falls into a small, round ‘o’ as she sizes up the scene faster than her darling, ditzy husband, who’s bereft of speech and straightens up from his sagging position against the door frame, stunned.

“S-Sakura-chan!” Bright ocean eyes ping from her face — beaming, because she’s already understood this wonderful coincidence and can deduce now what his message contained, she begins to weep a little, overwhelmed — to Sasuke’s, hesitant but with its own subtle change, a fleeting expression of love and pride. 

Hinata makes a comforting noise behind them, a reassuring response to Sakura’s tears, the language of women a bit quieter, something less decipherable.

“‘Ay, Sasuke you total bastard, showing up like this! Didn’t respond to my letter—”

“You ass,” Sasuke hisses, tugging fabric over one tiny ear belonging to his daughter. “She can hear that.”

“She’s in trouble anyway, with my mouth,” Sakura sighs, brushing away a tear.

Naruto’s eyes grow so wide they push the earthly bounds of his sockets. His head whips ‘round to look at his wife, their son, and snaps back just as fast to stare at his best friends.

“She?” The word comes out croaky, and Naruto’s already sniffling.

Sasuke and Sakura exchange a glance, the ghost of a knowing smile:  His sentiment has always been equal parts maddening and endearing, his adoration broadcast to the entire world.

Sasuke assents with a nod, but his own voiced response emerges with surprising vibrato emotion. Perhaps to hide it, he drops his chin onto Sakura’s head, resting it there. “Yeah. A little girl.”

They should expect it, but it’s still a scuffle like old times, Naruto tackling them both, gathering them close in his way, welcoming them home from the outside world and back into his magnetism, his heart. 

“Can’t believe you — didn’t even — you just come home like this—”

Their greetings and scoldings and expressions of love mesh together, can’t believe Sasuke managed it, Don’t squish her, Naruto! You idiot, It's you who’s managed it, how old, how long, where did you travel, what have you seen, how old is your son?

“How did you know?” Naruto asks, finally allowing them to breathe. He stares at Sakura, quizzical. “Betcha missed my letter. So how’d you know it’s a boy?”

“I’m a medic, remember?” Readjusting her daughter, she extends her other hand to Hinata, gesturing so she comes closer, anticipating a deeper appreciation of a friendship they’ve already begun, a new language they’ll learn together. “Had a feeling. I just know.”

But Naruto’s tugging on them again, drawing them close and tight, rooting them to the earth and the place they sprung from, flourished and fought in, and now, where they’ve returned. 

Time slackening and quickening though never lost or stolen, occasionally rhythm-robbed but always arriving expectantly, weaving their life legends into knots.

The codetta they’ve always managed to sing together in the end. 

[morelikesin]

Morning

A small drabble on an emotional morning with Phoenix and Miles 💕 This takes place any time after Dual Destinies. I'm writing it where they're already married. This is just a quick bit I wanted to write when I had the idea :') I also drew a quick something at the end. The fic is under the cut!

Phoenix really wished he had more days off - everytime he was, there was always a great smell in the house from Miles' cooking. Being off work more often meant more of that, even if a little less bank coming in. It would definitely be worth it.

Lifting himself up from the cushioned mattress and tossing aside the velvety soft blankets atop of him, he stretches his limbs with a low groan - reaching his arms back before pulling them into his lap as he relaxed. Taking in a deep breath, he pulls his legs over the side of the bed and hoists himself over so he could see what was on the menu this morning.

Closing the lid of the cooking pot to steam the rice, Mr. Edgeworth hummed quietly to himself a peaceful little tune; one of which he'd seem to be making up as he went along. Turning his attention elsewhere as the grains cooked, he lowered the heat for another burner to medium, where he was cooking miso soup. Adding in a good few tablespoons of yellow miso paste, he whisked the substance into the already simmered broth before adding some previously cut up blocks of tofu. Raising the spoon to catch a quick taste, he found it was light, slightly sweet, and smooth in a way he quite enjoyed. Something was missing though, of course - turning towards the fridge to grab a few stalks of watercress to chop and throw in.

Stepping out from their bedroom and making his way downstairs into their kitchen, Phoenix paused a moment to simply watch his love candid from the steps. Miles, dressed in his soft, white robe like every morning accompanied by his perfect-as-always hair. Phoenix could nay say the same, given his own styling takes ten minutes on a good day.

Watching the way he so gracefully moved even without knowing eyes were on him was incredibly cute - though Miles would never let him say that, with how against that description he was when it was of himself. For now, Phoenix knew Miles was cute. Handsome, of course. Sexy, of course. Cute, of course.

Phoenix made his presence known by making a soft yawn as he walked down the last few steps, walking into the main kitchen and making sure to gently hold his hand against the small of Miles' back as he stood next to him. The latter shook his head slightly whilst quickly chopping up the watercress aforementioned - swiftly picking them up between his hand and the knife and tossing it into the soup.

"Good morning, Wright. How did you sleep?"

Phoenix made a darling little laugh that Miles loved so much - the type with a sort of deepness to it; a sort of breathlessness. "Well, I slept just fine with you by me, hun," he spoke prior to pressing his lips against the prosecutor's cheek, "with you being as warm as a radiator and all, ha..!"

Miles scoffed. "Very funny. Is that all I'm good for in bed? To keep you warm?"

"I was about to say no, but..'keeping me warm' sure has a lot of meanings. And I think you're good for all of them." Phoenix sighed, sporting a small smile as he pressed his face into the nape of Miles' neck contently - lips gently kissing his shoulder. It earned a sweet, if calm, sigh from the prosecutor.

"..I could say the same for you. But it's much too early for this, mm? We can work out our flirtations after we eat breakfast."

Phoenix kept his dorky smile splashed on his countenance as he pulled away, raising a hand to brush back some strands of hair from his eyes - finding himself not too annoyed today with his 'naturally-spiky-but-not-spiky-enough-and-more-messy' bedhead. "That works with me; everything smells so good!"

Miles looked flattered from that. "Thank you, Wright. It is certainly better than what you normally make yourself in the morning-"

"Hey- don't knock cup coodles! I could live off of those."

Miles furrowed his brows and gave a glance to Phoenix in exasperation. "This is why I'm the one who feeds us. Anyhow.." The former smiled to himself as he pulled a plastic package of soba noodles in front of him on the counter - removing the wrapper and slowly adding the noodle block into the miso broth. "Maya called me earlier. She asked me to tell you that she'll be unavailable all day."

With Phoenix opening the fridge door to grab something to drink, he paused to speak before grabbing the carton of orange juice - much like many of their groceries, an expensive brand that Phoenix wasn't used to, and Miles' choosing. "Oh? Was she planning on taking Trucy and Pearls somewhere?"

Miles shook his head as he wiped off his hands with a damp washcloth that he'd set beside him prior, "Sort of. She wanted to make a trip to Hazakura Temple - she and Pearl are to train while Trucy is their...how did she put it, ah.. 'hype-man'." He felt silly even recalling the term, but Phoenix's expression seemed to prove that he knew what he meant.

"Hah- well, she'll get no bother from me then. I'll just check up on them when they get back. We have the whole day to ourselves, for once.." Phoenix meekly spoke - pouring himself a glass of the aforementioned juice before guzzling it down in a post-sleep thirstiness. He wiped his upper lip with his wrist as he went back in to pour some more.

"It is rare, isn't it..?" The prosecutor seemed somewhat sorrowful in stating that. "I want to make the most of it. It's not often I'm not out travelling, or you're not on duty, or there's no emergencies."

Phoenix parted his lips to speak, before sighing and looking down to his cup solemnly. He set it down. "...Yeah. But..I still love you all the same." He looked back up to the love of his life; a carefree smile pulling at his lips and a special brightness glittering in his eyes, "We're a family. Things are..always going to come up, but our time spent away or together feel all the same to me. The only difference is that I get to actually kiss you, in times like now. Being apart..just reminds me of how much I trust you."

The words hit harder than Miles expected them to. Even with the defense attorney's unorganized nature, and his less-than-articulate manner, it was somehow more meaningful to him. Phoenix was always emotional, and true to what he said - this was no different. Edgeworth's expression was strong; brows furrowed up and eyes purposefully lying low.

Phoenix paused, "..Come here."

He gestured for a hug after his gentle words; Miles all too eager for the embrace. Phoenix's arms draped over Miles' shoulders, wrapping around his neck as to pull himself closer. Vice versa was Miles wrapping his arms tightly around Phoenix's waist; both of their heads lay upon the other's shoulder, welcoming what warmth was available. They held each other for what felt like so long, and simultaneously not long enough; the only reason for their part was so they could meet at their lips, instead. Passionate, and yet soft - just a simple press without much else, yet it was all they needed. By the end of their embrace, their heads leaned forward to touch at their foreheads while holding each other's hands between their chests. Their thumbs occasionally brushed over each other's wedding rings.

"..You know how much you mean to me, Phoenix."

"I know, Miles." He huffed out a short breath before breaking into a smile, "..You could always just say 'I love you'."

And with that, the silver-haired Edgeworth broke into a laugh and slowly pulled away, "Alright, alright..I love you. You know that."

"I love you too, Miles."

Phoenix watched as his love went back to his work - Miles grabbing his wooden chopsticks as to stir the noodles. The more defensive of the two sat at the dining table, glass in hand.

"...I'm going to guess that you won't want onions in your serving of noodles."

Phoenix pretended to gag in response to Miles, "Ghk-! Absolutely-! Onions taint everything they touch..." He hesitated, "..Other than onion rings. But that's the only good thing with onions!"

Edgeworth rolled his eyes with a playful smile, chuckling to himself a bit at just how strongly Wright felt over such a thing as onions. "Of course. Though, you're missing out on their flavour, dear - I've never met someone other than you who has a distaste for them."

"You haven't met anyone with any tastebuds," Phoenix scoffed back - earning a snort from the other.

"Oh, have I? Dear, I think you're referring to yourself there."

The defense paused; his face lifting as his cocky court grin curled onto his lips. "Unfortunately, Edgeworth, I think you have some words to eat. Clearly my statement is right - anyone who's ever tasted an onion could tell you that it tastes like damn garbage."

The prosecution stifled a laugh, lolling his head to look over his shoulder at his rival. "Oh, Wright. I'm afraid you've buried your grave - onions obviously give any dish they're added to an excellent depth of flavor."

"Well obviously they do not- ow-!" Phoenix burst into a soft laugh as Miles leaned over to smack his arm with his chopsticks - ending their court imitations. "Hun-!"

Miles rolled his eyes and looked back down to his cooking. "My love. We don't need to argue over onions. Besides, I'm not about to settle a case over opinion."

"Ha-! Well then, baby doll, I'm prepared to settle a case of any kind. Maybe you just don't have that kind of determination?" Phoenix jested, taking another swig of his orange juice.

"Of course you would be, Feenie." Miles hesitated before chuckling to himself. Swirling the noodles inside the pot, he shook his head. "That's a new one. I don't know where that came from... It's sort of cute, no? Feenie. Hm."

When Miles went to look at Phoenix for his approval, he was numb; his husband's face suddenly not as lively as it once was. His eyes gazed low, gazed dryly. His hands tensed around the glass he held, knuckles bearing white. Worst of all, his countenance really held no expression at all - the fact that it was so stiff, so miserable looking was what'd caused Miles to choke back a breath.

What was it about that name that suddenly struck Miles as odd? Feenie. Feenie.

"It's.. uh.. not great, honestly, Miles. No offense or anything."

"I'm- sorry." Miles was admittedly stunned - a little ashamed, a little confused, very concerned. "..For some reason its.. ringing a bell-"

"Dahlia."

"I'm..sorry?"

"..Dahlia used to call me that. You know, before.."

The room was drenched in silence - Miles struggling to find any words to say. What could he say to that - what should he? Though, the look on Phoenix's pitiful face urged him to find something.

"...I didn't mean to hurt you, saying it. I-" Miles hummed to himself and turned his head to Phoenix, lip bitten and unsure how to word himself. He slowly looked back down to his cooking when words couldn't properly form in his throat.

"It's fine." Phoenix nodded - looking away and tapping his fingers on the table in a sort of anxiousness. "You didn't know."

"I didn't remember," Miles scolded himself, "I should have remembered such a thing like that."

Phoenix looked a little put off. "Don't feel guilty for that. It was so long ago - I.. I didn't expect you too."

The soft bubbling of the broth in the pot filled the silence between them; chopsticks occasionally hitting the sides of the pot, Pess jingling her collar as she scratched herself from the living room all the while. Phoenix tried to will Miles to turn around so he could assure him it was fine, without words - however when Miles never did he spoke up hesitantly.

"I didn't mean to ruin the mood."

Miles quickly scoffed and turned to look at Phoenix with a pained expression, "You didn't, Phoenix. You were just telling me of something that hurt you."

"It's just a nickname, though," Phoenix laughed at himself, seemingly ashamed, "It's a little stupid to hurt so much over a nickname, isn't it?"

"I don't think so," Miles replied, his tone hurt from his husband stuffing his emotions down - such a thing from Phoenix was rare, and it made this hurt just a little more than usual. Setting the chopsticks horizontally on the counter, he ushered himself away from the stove to lay a gentle, lithe hand on Phoenix's forearm, and leaning down so he could rest his chin atop his head.

Phoenix nearly melted into his touch, feeling comforted by Miles' body and his warmth. Finding solace in the safety of his arms, Phoenix allowed himself to exhale a deep breath and relax. Unsatisfied with the arrangements, however, he shook his head and gestured his head down. "Get in front of me a bit, Miles."

He wasn't about to complain, though as he moved in front of Phoenix to kneel, Miles was still a tad confused. Before he could ask why Phoenix wanted him to, the man placed his hands on the prosecutor's cheeks and leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

"I prefer looking at you, dear," Phoenix hummed. He moved his hands down to take Miles' own - raising them to place endearing kisses against flushed knuckles and fingertips, much to his husband's timidity. "..Thank you. For not minding putting up with me and all."

"Ah, yes," Miles started, smiling, "I married you because I simply 'didn't mind putting up with you'."

Phoenix laughed as he realized the hilarity of what he had said, "Hey! You know what I mean!"

"I married someone I just 'put up with'." Miles continued, chortling to himself, "Not in an act of pure love or anything."

Phoenix hushed Miles' teasing by leaning down and pressing his lips against the other's - the two humming against the warmth before falling into the quiet passion, then lingeringly pulling away. Their hands kept their doting hold still.

"..I love you, Phoenix. However, breakfast is due to overcook."

Phoenix shrugged and pressed his lips against Miles' cheek, unwilling to pull away as proven by how he spoke against his skin. "I don't mind."

"Suppose you wouldn't," Miles breathed out, amused.

Miles held himself in Phoenix's grasp before reluctantly pulling away to take charge of the stove again. Phoenix didn't seem to be happy with such an arrangement, so he took it upon himself to stand and wrap his arms around Miles' waist, head resting on his shoulder. The prosecutor pressed his palm against Phoenix's forearm in silent fondness - his other busy stirring food.

[kirayun]

The Journey Of Destiny (Eng Version) - S1E00: Prologue

(This is the version translated with Google Translate of my fic in Italian. And just an attempt to see if posting in dual language can work. Let me know if for those who read in English it is understandable or is it better if I leave it alone, do not worry about tell me.)

AO3 Link

Summary: "Billions of dollars of equipment at your disposal, and I beat you with a laptop that I won in a bet?"

In a similar universe, but at the same time different, the meeting in advance of two destined souls changes the unfolding of events forever. 

The cell phone alarm woke her from sleep, her eyes opened in the darkness of the van and one arm reached out to light the lamp so as to illuminate the tiny space on wheels where the girl lived.

For Skye a new day had begun, a day she would normally use to take a step closer to her goal, her constant pursuit, research that was now hampered by the empty space between her electronic equipment where she normally kept her computer. Just yesterday the laptop had abandoned her forever, deciding to die beyond repair.

After a last look and a sigh, Skye got up to begin her usual morning routine.

.

Skye came out of the diner's employees' bathroom next to the alley where she used to park the van, she had an agreement with the elderly owner couple that allowed Skye to use it to freshen up in exchange for her help in advertising the place on the internet and social media.

She nodded to the clerk behind the counter, a short red-haired young girl under twenty, although she couldn't see him because she was busy with the coffee machine

"Hey Grace"

The waitress, Grace, looked around and smiled at the sight of who had called her

"Skye hello, the usual?"

"Sure, you know how I like it," she said ambiguously and adding a wink, knowing it would provoke a reaction in the younger girl.

Grace's reaction was as expected: flush in her cheeks and she stumbled backwards slightly bumping a jug of coffee that nearly fell off the shelf behind her. "Skye!"

A small laugh went out from the hacker. "You know I only make fun of you."  

A nod from the redhead confirmed his statement. "Sure, sure, but in the meantime you almost made me break a jug ... again!" She made the point by waving the object that had nearly been destroyed in front of her.

After another little laugh from Skye, things resumed normally. She hadn't lied that his behavior was just to tease her, in fact, despite her bisexuality and her penchant for pretty, innocent-looking girls, the younger redhead was almost like a younger sister to her. Ever since she started going to the diner, the two had empathized with their similar family background, not knowing where you really come from and who your parents were.

The only difference was that as much as Grace accepted the life she now had and moved on with it, Skye couldn't do the same and was determined to find the answers she sought.

If only his computer had not dumped

.

Jemma Simmons walked along the sidewalk with her laptop bag over her shoulder and her cell phone to her ear.

"Mom I told you, I'm just waiting for Fitz and me to be assigned to the new job, Agent Weaver assured me it will be high profile but it still takes some time before it's ready."

As she continued to advance the girl noticed a small diner, an ideal place where she could stop and try to solve the problem that had arisen the night before.

"Look, I have to leave you…," she listened for a moment. "Yes, I love you too, and tell me ..." But she was interrupted by a man in a hurry who bumped into her and who continued to advance without even looking back.

After glancing disapprovingly at the direction where the man had gone, she put the phone back to her ear hearing her mother's voice asking if she was still on the line. "Yes, sorry ... yes, everything is fine ... yes I'll call you soon ...," and after a last goodbye the call ended and she walked into the diner.

.

Jemma had sat at a small table against one of the windows and was trying to solve something on the laptop while she was sipping the tea she had ordered earlier. She was thinking of having something to eat, but she wanted to fix this first.

The counter was behind her but she could hear the red-haired waitress, Grace if she remembered her nameplate correctly, jokingly arguing with another girl named Skye. Out of curiosity she was about to turn her head to see the scene when a large error message appears on the computer.

“No, no! Don't do this to me… ”But nothing, as she typed in several commands, the machine didn't respond.

All this attracted the attention of Skye who seeing the laptop and the girl from the back decided to get up from the counter and approach her table. "Any problems with the computer?" She asked and waited for the other girl to notice her.

When Jemma looked up at the new voice, she and Skye met eyes for the first time and for a moment everything seemed to stop. Both girls momentarily forgot what they were doing there or even who they were, too busy examining who they were in front of and the particular and invisible energy that a single glance had created between them. It didn't feel like a look from two strangers, it was as if they had always known each other and were just re-meeting after a very long time. Neither of the girls, however, had processed all this in their mind, it was more an unconscious feeling hidden inside them.    

After a few seconds, Jemma's brain finally processed the question. "What? ..." she was the first to recover from that strange feeling that was soon forgotten by both of them and that brought them back to the present. "... Oh yeah, and since last night he's been giving me trouble and today he seems to be totally crazy opening a bunch of random stuff at once and not responding to any commands I give him which is really weird because he's new and just for I use it for work but I didn't even have time to do anything about it because it immediately created problems, by now I have resigned myself to the fact that it must have some manufacturing defect and that I will have to change it. " She said it all at once and so quickly with even a few hand gestures that Skye couldn't help but find the lovely thing, that accent then…

Skye glanced at the screen as she ducked a little toward it. "Trust me, I know something about computers ditching you, mine just melted a few days ago ... but yours doesn't seem hopeless ...," she raised her posture and pointed to where the other girl was sitting. "I can? I'm Skye anyway. " Taking advantage of the moment also to introduce yourself.

Jemma understood the meaning of the question, nodded affirmatively and moved over the bench, letting Skye sit next to her. After all, what did it cost to let this girl give it a try? She knew that SHIELD would pay her another without a problem, part of her benefits as a scientist was the ability to have various equipment put on the expense account. And if while observing yet another failure to save him she was stirred inside by the close presence of this girl ... well Jemma certainly wouldn't have objected. "Jemma, and I don't think you're going to get anything out of him." By now she had already given up anyway.

Skye turned her head to Jemma looking into her eyes again. “So little confidence in my abilities ?,” she said using a slightly softer voice but not over the top.

"I don't know you, I can't know what your abilities are." Jemma replied with a smirk and a little playful voice, without even realizing the subtle flirtation the two had started.

"Yet you did not hesitate to immediately assume that I would fail." Skye said in the same tone as the other girl.

"I wasn't underestimating your possible computer skills, I'm just stating the facts based on the evidence I've been subjected to in the last fourteen hours." Jemma was trying to use logic in this "discussion". It was no longer about the computer, but who would have the last word on the other first.

Skye, sensing a slight hint of defiance in Jemma's argument, decided she definitely needed to impress the girl while at the same time keeping her hacker ego high. She brought her face a little closer to her. "Do you bet I can fix it?" His tone was doubtless defiant now.

Jemma didn't pull back and fold her arms as if to affirm it. “Let's do this, you said yours broke a few days ago right? If by a miracle you manage to make it work properly you can keep it, as I said so much it's new and I haven't put anything personal on it yet. "

Skye raised an eyebrow at this. "What if I don't succeed?"

"Then you buy me breakfast." Jemma answered without hesitation. At least she could get a meal with Skye and the morning wouldn't be ruined by the laptop disaster.

"This sounds like a win either way to me." Again the flirtation had made its appearance and to increase it all she even gave a wink.

Taken aback by the sudden audacity, Jemma looked down and blushed. The two remained in their positions for a few seconds, until Skye stopped looking at her and focused again on the laptop.

So for the next few minutes the young hacker did her magic and the biochemist watched her sipping her tea. For Jemma there was something special about this girl she had just met, she didn't know why, but she felt that today something had changed. She did not know what, in what quantity and how this would affect her from now on, she only knew that the meeting with Skye had shifted the axis of her life in an unpredictable way and she was curious what this would bring. The logical part of her brain, which was the one she usually used, said that it was a bit of an exaggeration to think so of a person with whom she had just exchanged a few words and who was now trying to solve her laptop, a laptop that moreover she had promised as part of the bet. But this time Jemma couldn't listen to that logical part of her, too busy with these new sensations. Nor was the "girl" part the problem since she never hid her bisexuality from anyone.

"Done! Like New!"

Skye's sudden voice roused Jemma from her thoughts, and once she understood what she had said, she moved the laptop towards her and stared at the screen. And indeed the computer now seemed to be back in place, the desktop in front of her was normal, and after a few tests, she could confirm that the device was responding to every command she gave it. "How did you do that?!" Jemma was not ignorant on the subject, you don't get two doctorates at a very young age without using computers, let alone having attended the Academy of Science and Technology at SHIELD, and yes perhaps this would have been more subject for the Academy of Communications, but she could say she could manage a little and recognize when a case was lost. But Skye had managed to solve everything in a few minutes.

"Secrets of the trade." These words and a small shrug were Skye's only response, along with a satisfied smirk that wouldn't leave his lips.

Jemma smiled along with her, and after looking at the laptop one last time, she closed it and lifted it with one hand to give it to Skye "Well, so now this is yours"

"Wait, were you serious ?!" Honestly, when Jemma told Skye the stakes, she didn't think she would actually have her laptop if she fixed it. Who does it with a stranger ?!

"Absolutely, a bet is a bet, and then my job will pay me a new one without any problems, it's part of my benefits." Jemma said with conviction.

"But won't they want the old one to check?" It couldn't be that simple.

“I will say that it ended up under a car and that there were only so many pieces left to throw away. Quiet I'm a pretty respected girl in my work area, I'm not usually the "Bad Girl Shenanigans" type. " The advantage of being a girl who usually never breaks the rules is doing what is expected of her, but spending time with Skye kept making her question a lot of things. Jemma handed the laptop to the girl once more, hoping that she would finally take her winnings.

Skye eventually gave up and accepted it, not believing her luck: she had met a beautiful girl and won a new laptop that only needed a quick reprogramming, or at least quick as far as her personal computer skills are concerned.

Once again the two girls were staring at each other, trying to figure out what they should be saying now, but then Jemma glanced at the diner's wall clock and revived all at once. “I didn't realize it was so late! My best friend is waiting for me! " She was due to meet with Fitz very soon. She stood up and quickly gathered her things, minus the laptop of course, "can you ..." she waved her hand to the fact that being seated next to her could not leave the table.

Skye, who had been immobilized by this sudden turn of events, realized the request. "Uh, sure ..." she got up to let her pass, still wondering how it was all ending so quickly.

Once clear of the table and leaving the money for the waitress, Jemma looked at Skye. "Sorry but I really have to go, my friend will kill me if I'm late, we have this dendrotoxin project and soon we'll be called back to our work ...," she quickly realized that the other girl looked confused about that. who had just said, "... sorry, forget it, big words from a scientist." The smile Skye gave in return made her smile too. "So I'm going ..." And after a last hesitation, she headed for the exit of the diner.

Skye finally recovered and ran to join Jemma who was now on the sidewalk outside the diner looking for a Taxi. "Jemma wait ... and what about that breakfast?" She asked trying on one last note of flirtation.

As the Taxi arrived, the biochemist turned to her. “You won the bet, didn't you? You'll have to settle for the laptop and wait for the next time. ”The big smile on Jemma's face confirmed it all.

"Look, I'm counting on it!" Today it seemed that neither of the girls ever stopped smiling at each other.

Jemma nodded and after having a final look at the other girl got into the Taxì, leaving a few seconds later.

Skye stood there staring until the car was out of sight, then returned to the diner. Only once inside did she realize something… they hadn't exchanged phone numbers! She immediately ran to the table with her new laptop hoping Jemma was lying when she said she hadn't put anything personal in it yet, but unfortunately for her after a few minutes she realized that in fact there was really no information that would allow her to track it down. Skye didn't even know her last name! This was an absolute disaster for her, far worse than how she had felt when she woke up without a computer to work on.

Grace, seeing her agitation, approached her. "Are you all right Skye?" Asked the young waitress.

Skye shook her head and looked up at her friend "I feel like I just missed the chance of a lifetime ..."

Grace, who had been watching Skye and the English girl interact the whole time, immediately understood what she meant. "Well you know ... if it is meant to be I'm sure that in some you will be able to meet her again, who knows, life always has a way to surprise you, you'll see," also adding an encouraging smile.

As the redhead got back to work, Skye stared out of the diner window reflecting on her words and the entire encounter with Jemma. Even though she didn't have the same confidence as Grace, just looking at how long she still looked for where she came from and who her parents were, she had the feeling that something really special had happened today and maybe this wouldn't be the only time. she would see Jemma.

But for now she no longer had time for these thoughts, or rather, she had other people to look for. And thanks to her new laptop, she could get back to work to attract the attention of a certain secret organization…

The End... or not?

What do you think? Should I continue? Is the translated version understandable and legible or should I leave it alone and limit myself to those in Italian? Don't worry to be honest, I prefer to know right away if it works or not.

[ask-ace-attorney-mpreg]

Meme submission but it’s all Phoenix

Hi can I be anonymous for this submission. You said I could do this meme with one character so I’m gonna try and set each scenario as one birth per game have fun with the six kids phoenix!

First Birth

(Set post turnabout memories/pre game one)

Phoenix was only a college student. He wasn’t ready for this. He didn’t want to do this any more. It was too scary! He cant!

He felt his mentor hold him close and stroke his hair as he laboured. “M-Mia... I’m scared.”

“Sh... it’s alright phoenix... just push”

Phoenix nodded as he felt the strange and painful sensations burn inside him a hand gently pressing on his belly in an attempt to help but it only hurt more.

Eventually phoenix managed to keep himself conscious enough to witness Mia pull the baby out of him. A beautiful baby girl.

Phoenix pants as he holds the newborn close. He names her Dahlia, after the loved one he lost, much to Mia’s annoyance.

Difficult Birth

(Set post rise from the ashes)

Edgeworth was gone, Maya was gone, Phoenix was all alone save for his 2 year old daughter the child growing inside him. One that was insisting it be born now. The pain was overwhelming as was the fear. He may have birthed a child before sure but this was more painful. He was in so much pain he could get off the couch to grab his phone. He wasn’t ready to give birth alone but his child was saying he had to.

His daughter Dahlia watched in fear and helplessness. Her mommy was scared and she had no idea how to help.

That’s when he saw the man in the door way. He had no idea who it was but he didn’t care about that. All he could do was turn to him and shout. “DONT JUST STAND THERE CALL AN AMBULANCE!!”

“You don’t need one! I’m a doctor! I can help!!”

Phoenix was in too much pain to argue. Hours later he birthed a son. He named him Miles after his father, who had chosen death.

As he held his son in feeding position, he looked to his saviour.

“Thank you for helping us... who are you?”

“My name is Turner Grey and I need your help!”

Home birth

(Set post Apollo Justice)

Phoenix sighed deeply and wrapped an arm around his contracting dome. His tracksuit sticking to his body from the sweat. Outside his room Trucy was looking after her younger siblings and keeping them from disturbing him. Surely they wouldn’t want to see this.

He let out another soft moan as he felt his child begin to move down the birth canal, “Time to start pushing I suppose”. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply in order to give strong steady pushes. His moans becoming slightly more pained groans.

Soon a man walked in, tall, blonde hair in a drill on the side, and glasses. He walked over to Phoenix and pressed a hand on his stomach. “How are my lieblings?” No greeting, just that question.

“Deciding to come out...” Phoenix muttered with the same level of curtness.

With that Kristoph sits down on a chair, watching exoectantly. Phoenix pretends he’s not there and focuses on the birth. The child wouldn’t know his father for long anyway.

By the time Phoenix holds his son to his chest to feed, Kristoph is long gone. Vanished into the spirit world. With his son, Klaus, the only remaining connection to The man he hurt.

Regardless of their feelings towards Kristoph; Trucy, Dahlia, Miles jr, and Gryffen, loved meeting their little brother.

Water birth

(Set post Dual Destinies)

Phoenix hurriedly ushers himself into the tub, immediately spreading his legs and preparing for what was to come.

Even if this was his fifth time giving birth, he could never get used to the pain. It was unbearable.

The bath water splashed and caressed against his belly. Keeping it warm and barely easing it. Miles held Phoenix’s hand and tried to assure him as best he could.

Phoenix may have done this before, but this was his first time birthing twins. It was a long and painful process, but the comfort of the warm water and his husband eased the pain.

Eventually Phoenix relaxed in the tub, feeding his newborn son and daughter. Fraternal twins. He leaned against Miles and both knew deep down that they wanted to name the twins after Phoenix’s apprentices whom he few so proud of.

Needless to say, Apollo and Athena were excited to meet their tiny counterparts

Fast birth

(Set during the lost turnabout)

Phoenix just stared in abject horror at what had happened. He had no idea what was going on.

He had no idea who he was, he was suddenly put into a trial he knew nothing about and all of a sudden he was in serious pain. He asked to go to the rest room and staggered over there. He had barely gotten to a cubicle when the baby was out.

He had given birth!? When was he pregnant!? Who was the father!? What happened!?

Still, maternal instinct kicked in and he held the newborn close, naming him Gryffen after his father.

Free choice (intimate birth)

(Set post Spirit of Justice)

Phoenix panted heavily as he leaned against his husband’s bare chest. “I can’t believe... you managed to get time off for this...”

“As chief prosecutor, I can easily assign cases to the other prosecutors... I didn’t want to take any chances and miss the last one...”

“At least I hope it’s the last one...” Phoenix sighs as Miles caressed his thighs to ease the pain. “You’d think I would’ve gotten myself fixed after the twins...”

Miles chuckled and kissed his neck. “If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought you liked doing it!”

“I really don’t!” Phoenix sighed before moaning at how sensitive his body was. “Ok... maybe some of it...”

Miles kissed him some more and Phoenix curled his hands around his. Ready for the last child to come. Outside, the older kids were placing bets on the gender. Even though the parents already knew.

“We’re waiting for you Amelia.” Phoenix chuckled and patted his stomach. “Hurry up.”